The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1887-09-23
MY LEGACY.


that career were almost unanimous. They
pointed out with great force the pecarious
nature of such employment, its difficulties,
its h%ardships and the comparatively few
prizes that were offered in such a lottery.
Their arguments were, however, unavail-
ing. | was infatuated with 'the power of
the press" and already saw in magma
ton the time when l should become a
"we, and help to enlighten mankind-and
womankind too, for | was then unmarried
and filled with plans for the elevation of
the fairer sex-by my luminously express
ed and well-considered opinions.
One single friend counseled me to ego
ahead'' and try the work for which l had
an inclination. This good genius was an
uncle, who had in his earlier years won
distinction as a newspaper man, and though
he had abandoned the field for the more
remuneratiye one of novel writing, was
still in complete touch and sympathy with
his former employment.
cts a hard and wearing life, my boy"
he said, ''but it has its pleasures and its
triumphs. If you've anything in you, and
l fancy you have, you'll either get well on
in journalism, or get out of it. Don't be
content to settle down in a subordinate po-
sition, however fair the salary or light the
work. I can, perhaps, help you get start.
and when you want a lift and I think you
deserve it, I'll try to give it to you"
Through my uncle's influence l did get
my '%'start," and though for nearly two
years | was doomed to the worst kind of
reporting" | stuck manfully to my work.
Certainly l was a little disillusioned about
the glorious delights of the journalistic ca
reer, but | was confident that they were
yet to be found in the precincts of the edi-
itorial rooms. After the two years had
passed, advancement.began to come, slow
ly at first, but by dint of hard labor and
untiring energy 1 forced myself into the
notice of the "chief." 1t was years before
| passed from the ~'Hcity-room' to the man.
aging editors department, where | assist
ed the dramatic and literary critic. | was
at last in a position to begin my schemes
for the elevation of womankind, and I
speedily raised ''the dearest girl in the
world" into TIE dignity of a Mrs
This was not. perhaps, a great REFORM
but l flattered myself it evinced my appre-
citation and good intentions.
My plunge into matrimony was like that
into journalism, opposed by1 my nearest
friends, who cheerfully emphasized the
fact that my income was entirely depend
ent upon my health-a most uncertain re-
lance. Again my uncle rallied to my sup
port. Ensure your life for a decent sum,
try to save something every week, no mat
ter how little, and trust in Providence
was his advice. 1t is almost needless to
say I took it, though regret to say that l
did not find the weekly saving to be al
ways practicable.
Our wedding presents We're neither nu-
merous nor eXtravagant, still SOM useful
articles lightened the expense of setting up
housekeeping. | must confess that had
a hope that my uncle would ''come down
handsomely" for was not he the only one
of my relatives whose advice l had taken?
My disappointment was considerable
when l found his contribution consisted of
a copy of his last novel-a book, too, that
l had already favorably reviewed.
"This is gratitude and generosity in
deed, l exclaimed, as l savagely pitched
the volume to the further end of the room,
and opened the note which had accompan-
led the precious gift. 1t ran thus:
"MY DEAR jack
"Yoa are about to take my advice-and
a wife; | hope both will turn out equally
good. Never having been a husband my
self, | can fearlessly say to you that a good
husband makes a good wife. As an earn
est of my best wishes, | send you what is
the most precious to me, my Benjamin,
my youngest child, in whose pages l trust
you will find some Of my most valuable
thoughts.
'Your affectionate uncle,
ROBERT"
'What is the matter %. Lexclaimed the
dearest girl, " whose attention had been
attracted by the noise made by the falling
book.
""All that my liberal uncle has sent me
is a copy of his book, which didn't cost him
a cent. It's jolly lucky for him l review
ed it a week ago"
Don't be vexed, dear; at any rate 1
wanted to read it," and she walked to
where the offending volume was resting
and picked it up.
'Why, jack" she cried, as she opened
it, ''here, pinned to the title-page, is a
$500 bill!,
To say that l mentally kicked myself
for an ungrateful idiot, would be to give
a poor idea of the state of my feelings;
during the next hour the dearest girl"
and l had the most delightful talk about
the ultimate disposition of that beautiful
engraved fy-leaf.
l think l must have been a very good
husband, for l certainly had the best of
wives. 1t is just barely possible, how
ever, that the converse of my u~ncle's
quotation is true, and that a good wife
makes a good husband. l rather prefer to
flatter myself by not believing this, and
assuredly l see many good wives who have
not good husbands. My uncle Robert was
certainly a very clever mani